Ridiculously Epic…

Right and wrong are just words. What matters is what we do

Plump, Heavyset, Chubby…The “Fat” Problem

I am 26 years old. Since I can remember I have had self-esteem issues. I don’t want to say that I’ve always struggled with my weight, because I honestly never considered myself fat, just self-conscious in tight clothes.

Until recently.

Clients at my work commented that I was pregnant…a stranger in the Coach outlet store said “Oh, you’re pregnant!” when trying to decide on whether the bag they were looking at would suffice as a diaper bag…and it hurt. I made it to the car without breaking down completely, but then I was a complete wreck for about 20 minutes in the car with Ernest, and there was nothing he could say or do to fix it because I am the problem.

I am stuck in a vicious cycle. I’ll hate the way I look, and make up my mind to eat better, track my food and calories on Spark.com, do more physical activity, etc. etc. etc. But then I don’t. I may do it for a couple weeks, but then I lose steam. Tracking every single thing you eat is kind of ridiculous and really difficult. I refuse to measure out 2 ounces of peanut butter to make a serving size, or measure out 2 tablespoons on salad dressing, 3/4 cup of cereal…so on and so forth, Some people have the patience to do it, but not me.

Let’s get real, I effing love Chiptole. Bacon Cheeseburgers with french fries and ranch dressing? Yum-O. Ice cream? Amazing. Don’t get me wrong…I don’t eat those things all the time, but I am not willing to give up some of my favorite foods or kill myself working out because people are insensitive assholes.

I am a victim of the media. I see the celebrities in their bikinis and tiny little clothes that will never, ever fit me and feel like a fat cow in comparison. I keep thinking that I should be a size 2 when that’s not a realistic expectation for my body type without looking unhealthy.

I love seeing celebrities like Adele, who don’t let the media get to them. It saddens me that amazing and talented people who are considered “heavy” or “plus sized” lose weight just to get out of the harsh and judgmental spotlight. I mean, have you seen Drew Carey lately? Jessica Simpson…she’s still freaking beautiful but the media killed her and now she’s promoting WeightWatchers instead of embracing her post-birth and curvy body and standing up to the critics. (I just Googled Jessica Simpson and the first 3 suggestions were “Jessica Simpson,” “Jessica Simpson Weight,” and “Jessica Simpson Weight Loss.” Case closed.)

(Side note…I don’t think there is anything wrong with losing weight to better your health, but when celebrities do it I question their motives. Are they really doing it to be happier and healthier because they struggle like I do, or because their agent pushes for it?)

Philip DeFranco is a hilarious, intelligent and insightful vlogger. But when he posts his new videos to his Facebook page, more often than not it is accompanied by a picture of a scantily clad, big boobed, stereotypical “hot” woman to draw attention to his new post. I get the idea, but it makes me want to NOT want to watch his videos, regardless of how much I love them, because he is just another person perpetuating this cycle of women feeling inadequate because they don’t look like that picture.

One of my favorite bloggers is Brittany Gibbons. She is funny, honest, insightful, and makes me feel amazing after reading her stories. She is the Editor in Chief of the Curvy Girl Guide. She’s inspiring. She makes me not want to starve myself to be skinny, she makes me want to go out and purchase copy-cats of most of her outfits (Sorry Brittany, I just can’t get with the yellow pants even though you rock them) because she looks stunning in them.

And then I found this. She is wonderful, and she made me realize something:

I. Am. Average.

I’m 5’3, I wear a size 7 shoe, I wear a size 14-16 pant. Average. And average ain’t so bad.

Here’s the point: I am me. Ernest loves me for me, curves and all. In fact…he has flat out told me that he doesn’t want me to lose my shape because he thinks I am beautiful and sexy. I will totally still have those days where I want to cry because I feel fat, or days where I want to throw away my whole closet because I hate the way I look in everything…but those days will pass. And I will still be me, and I will still love who I am…love handles and all.